


The Peach Trees

by anemic_cinema



Series: World's End Boyfriend [8]
Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Conversations, Kissing, M/M, Romance, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 13:53:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemic_cinema/pseuds/anemic_cinema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: No queers after the zombie apocalypse? I don't think so.</p>
<p> Daryl makes amends, and Glenn makes his move. </p>
<p>CW: use of a racial slur, minor violence against walkers</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Peach Trees

It was early when Daryl buried the hand. He'd made his way up to the plateau overlooking the camp, had dug a small, but deep, hole under a tree and placed Merle's hand there. There wasn't much to say in this occasion. It wasn't a funeral exactly, and it wouldn't have been right to deliver an eulogy when Merle was probably still alive. So he sat there, looking at the miniature grave. He was never one for prayer, and even before the shit hit the fan he had no reason to believe in any kind of god, but today, he spoke one. 

“I hope you're safe somewhere Merle.”

With that, he stood and walked back to the camp. The sun would soon be blazing, and he had to go check the snares he'd set up to catch squirrels. The camp depended on him for meat, frankly he figured it was the only reason they hadn't kicked his sorry ass out. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn't notice Jim walking up the hill the opposite way, carrying a shovel and a blank expression on his face. As he entered the perimeter of the camp, Daryl saw that T-Dog was up chopping wood. Taking a deep breath, and summoning all of his courage, he went over to him.

“Hey.” He said to the other man. “You got a minute?”

T-Dog was surprised that the redneck was coming up to him and talking to him. He'd never held a high opinion of the guy, and the feeling had always seemed to be mutual. “Yeah man, hold on.” He put down the ax. “What's up.”

Daryl's tongue was stuck. He'd rehearsed an apology while he'd been digging, but now that he had to deliver it, he could not remember a word of it. He stammered. “I need to talk to you 'bout somethin' that's real important and that I need to say.”

T-Dog looked at him and waited. Daryl's nerves were kicked into high gear and he hated it. All he wanted to do is apologize and he couldn't even to that right. The other man was perspicacious though. “Hey, look, if it's about Merle, I understand. I would've been pissed off too. I get it, family's family.”

“No, well, yeah, it's about that, but also...” Daryl felt the overwhelming urge to start gnawing on his fingernails. “ I need to apologize about, you know.” He waved his hands in a circle. “Everything. The way Merle treated you. It wasn't right, and I'm sorry for it. I should've kept him in check, but I didn't, and I let him treat you like shit.”

T-Dog's jaw dropped. Of all the things he'd expected from the guy, this wasn't one of them. 

“I mean, he'd-” Daryl stopped himself. He could not allow himself to refer to his brother in the past tense. “He's always been that way. He don't know any better. Now I ain't excusin' what he done to you. But you gotta understand it was the way we was raised, yaknow?” 

The other man sighed. “I know.” He didn't have anything else to say to it. The apology was a nice gesture, but that's all that it was. A gesture. T-Dog had been burned too many times by empty gestures and apologies from other people. It was as if people figured that all their sins were magically absolved by saying 'I'm sorry I was racist/I'm sorry that other person was racist to you.' The only times an apology like that carried any weight was if the person giving it was going to actively change either themselves or others, and he had no way of knowing if that was what Daryl was going to do. Sure, he might be apologetic now, but what would happen the next time he was pissed off? Was he gonna act just like Merle? Or worse? His caution was self-preservation, and he knew there was little chance that the other man could ever understand that. How could he?

Daryl looked at him expectantly, waiting for an answer or acceptance of the apology. T-Dog rubbed the sweat from his upper lip with the back of his hand. “Thank you for apologizing.” 

The older man opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but said nothing. He just nodded and walked away. Daryl wasn't sure what to make of that exchange. He'd done the right thing, but T-Dog didn't look like he'd believed him. He certainly hadn't forgiven him, otherwise he would have said so. Daryl felt slightly resentful. He'd made the effort, and it wouldn't have killed T-Dog to acknowledge that. This whole “doing the right thing” thing was fucking difficult. 

All of that was forgotten though when he saw Glenn. He was by the fire, preparing breakfast with Amy. They were talking and laughing, and looked so happy that Daryl would have killed to have even a second like that with the younger man. It struck him that the two of them were pretty friendly, and he felt a fear creep into the pit of his stomach that they might be more than just friends. He was about to sulk off, when Glenn spied him and waved at him to come over. Daryl strolled over, trying to look casual and collected, when inside of him there was a maelstrom brewing. Just the thought of Glenn being taken, that he'd missed his chance (assuming he'd ever had a chance to begin with), was enough to make him want to puke. 

“'Morning. Oatmeal again for breakfast, but this time, there's raisins in it!” Both him and Amy made ooh and ahh noises in unison. Daryl smiled briefly. 

“Sounds good.” 

“Oh yeah, the raisins really break up the routine, and we promise it's not burnt.” Amy scooped some out into a bowl and handed it to him. “Hey, Daryl...I'm sorry about your brother.”

Daryl gave her an nod of acknowledgment. “Thanks. I 'preciate it.”

“Glenn was telling me about everything that went down yesterday. It sounds like you really saved the day. Why, Glenn might be getting licked to death by chihuahuas right now if you hadn't saved his sorry butt.” 

“Hey, those dogs were vicious. One of them attacked my shoes!” Daryl laughed along with them. It didn't feel totally comfortable, but then again, he'd never been a people person. He ate his breakfast, observing and occasionally joining in the conversation when they spoke to him directly. When the subject of daily duties came up, and Glenn mentioned that he didn't have anything to do, Daryl piped up.

“Why don't you help me with the snares? It goes quicker with two people doing it, and like that we can have meat tonight.”

Glenn's face lit up. “Sure! Wait, should I bring a weapon? In case of geeks?”

Daryl nodded. “Probably be a good idea.”

They scarfed down the rest of the oatmeal, eating fast to avoid the general nausea caused by eating the same thing multiple days in a row. 

“I gotta go grab something from my tent, meet you by the RV in a few minutes ok?”

With that, Glenn took off towards his tent, feeling excited at the opportunity to hang out with Daryl, even if it involved collecting dead squirrels. 

*******

When Daryl met up with Glenn by the RV, he had to hold back his chuckles. The younger man was holding a machete, and looked pleased as punch with his weapon. 

“Pretty cool no? It was in that bag of weapons that Rick had.”

“Whatever you say, Rambo. You know how to handle that thing?” Just when Daryl thought Glenn couldn't get any cuter or more adorable, he did something to top himself. 

“Oh yeah,” Glenn sliced the air with the weapon, “I'm a regular walker killing machine with this. Fastest machete this side of the Mississip.” He tried tossing the blade in the air and catching it, but it ended up landing with a clatter at his feet.”

“Careful now killing machine, you don't wanna cut yerself on accident. You might get lockjaw or some shit.” The older man chuckled and motioned to Glenn to follow him. 

They marched into the woods, Glenn keeping a lookout for tell-tale motion in the brush, and Daryl ferreting out the snares he'd set up in the trees. He cursed every time he found an empty one, and triumphantly brandished every dead squirrel he found, which wasn't often. Either the squirrels were getting smart, or they were seriously depleting the forest, because out of the dozen plus snares Daryl had set up, only two of them had squirrels in them. Despite that fact, it was kinda fun not doing this alone, especially since Glenn was so quick to compliment his skills in setting up the traps that had worked. Once they'd checked all the snares around the camp, Daryl suggested heading deeper into the woods.

“Might have better luck if we set up snares farther away from camp.” Glenn agreed and they continued out. Clouds were beginning to cover the sky, suggesting that there might be a rainstorm soon. They walked on, stopping intermittently to set up traps. The work was easy for Daryl, but required his total concentration. As he was making noose loops with the wire he'd brought, he heard a crack and a crunch of leaves close to him. He heard Glenn yell.

“LOOK OUT!”

The hunter looked up to see a particularly rotten looking walker. Half its face was gone, showing the sinew and bones of its skull. He grabbed for his crossbow, but Glenn was quicker. The younger man sank his machete in the walker's neck, knocking it to the ground from the force of the blow. Bracing his foot against its skull. He pulled the blade out and brought it home down into the dead creature's brain. Daryl scrambled to his feet, eyes darting around frantically. Another noise came behind him. He wheeled around, aimed, and shot a second walker in between the eyes with his crossbow. The woods were quiet again, save for the sound of their breaths. 

“That was close.” Glenn said, taking off his cap and wiping the sweat from his brow.

“Yeah,” Daryl retrieved his arrow from the walker's skull. Waste not, want not. “Good looking out kid.”

“No problem. You've saved my life twice now, I gotta catch up.” Glenn smiled slyly at him. 

“Three times.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

Daryl pointed to the walker at his feet. “I saved yer ass three times now.”

Glenn looked scandalized. “That one so does not count. It wasn't even near me.”

“Sure does, if I hadn't killed it it would be snacking on yer arm as we speak.”

“You are so full of shit.” Glenn laughed. “Even if you're good with that crossbow.”

Daryl smiled. This was nice. Despite the undead and the misery, it was nice being around Glenn. “C'mon, lets keep going.” 

They trekked through the woods. The sun was high in the sky now, occasionally peeking from behind the heavy gray clouds. As they went up a small hill, Glenn stopped, sniffing the air. 

“Hey, d'you smell that?” 

Daryl sniffed. There was a strong smell of rotting fruit. “Smells like it's coming from over there.” He pointed to the right of the hill. Curious, they clambered over the incline and were stopped dead in their tracks. It was an orchard. Peach trees in lines, for as far as they could see. 

“Fuck me...peaches! Holy shit, fresh fruit!” Glenn rushed to the nearest tree. The branches were still heavy with fruit, even though quite a few had fallen onto the ground, and were producing the smell that they'd noticed. He twisted a peach off a branch and sank his teeth into it. He groaned with pleasure. The peach was perfectly ripe and juicy, its fragrance so intense he felt inebriated just by smelling it. 

“Oh my god, Daryl, this is the best damn peach I've ever eaten.” Glenn said with his mouth full. He devoured the rest of the peach in record time, and picked another. “Dude, you have got to have one. They are incredible.”

The younger man held out a peach to him. Daryl took it, carefully turning it over in his hand. Its skin was yellowy orange with sunburst shapes of deep pink here and there. It was the most beautiful thing he'd seen in a while. Pinching the fuzzy skin in between two fingers, he picked it off until there was a naked stripe of peach flesh big enough for him to sink his teeth into. He bit into the soft flesh, letting the juice coat his tongue. It tasted as heavenly as it looked. As he picked off more skin, he noticed Glenn staring at him. The kid was on his third peach, and watching him intently. 

“The fuzz makes my lips itch.” Daryl explained, looking back down at the peach. Glenn had this way of looking at him that made him feel naked, like the kid could see straight through him, through all the bullshit and the posturing. Suddenly, he felt raindrops fall onto the top of his head. 

“Dammit!” Glenn cried out. “Is there anywhere we can hide out from the rain?”

Daryl looked at the tree. It's branches were not close enough together to shield them from the rain. He looked around, trying to find anything that could be of use. Bingo. There was a wood structure on the edge of the orchard that had probably been used to store tools. It had three walls and a roof, and the front was totally open. It would do for now. 

“C'mon, we can hide out under that for the time being.” Daryl explained, pointing to the structure, unceremoniously tossing the peach he'd been eating to the ground. Glenn nodded, grabbed a few more peaches and ran after Daryl. The rain was bucketing down now, and by the time they got under cover, their shirts were pretty well soaked. Thankfully, the roof of the shack wasn't leaky, and there was enough space underneath it to spread out. 

Glenn sat his hat aside and stared out at the rain. “Well, we needed a break anyways.” He ran his hands down his arms, wiping off the droplets off water as best he could. 

“Yeah.” Daryl looked around the shack. There was a small pile of wood in one of the corners, and it was still dry. “If we build a fire we can cook the squirrels we got.” 

“You sure? I mean, shouldn't we save them for the camp?”

“Kid, two squirrels ain't gonna feed the whole camp. You get a fire goin' and I'll prepare 'em.”

Glenn did as Daryl asked, and soon they had a small fire going. He winced when he saw Daryl strip the skin off the animals and gut them, but meat was meat. The days of neatly packaged pieces of meat neatly lined up in their Styrofoam trays were gone. Although it was still pouring, Daryl darted out from the shelter to cut off two thin branches from a nearby tree. 

“So we can roast these puppies.” He explained as he sharpened the branches and impaled the squirrels. He handed one to Glenn, and held his own over the fire, slowly turning it back and forth. 

“How do you tell when they're done?” Glenn asked, watching the flesh start to sizzle, listening to the popping sounds as fat melted off of it and landed into the fire. 

“Don't worry I'll let you know. Just keep turnin' it so it cooks even like.” 

The cooking process was slow going. Glenn found it kinda frustrating that it took so long to to cook such a small animal. When he voiced his distress, Daryl told him you had to cook them slow so they didn't get tough. They sat there, silently cooking squirrel while the rain kept coming down. It was too boring for words, and finally Glenn had to break the monotony.

“So what did you do before.” He asked, echoing the question Daryl had asked him not too long ago.

“This an' that.” Daryl muttered. 

“Wow, sounds real exciting.” The older man gave him one of his patented 'fuck you' looks. Glenn sighed. “C'mon man, be a little more specific. I mean, I'm curious. You're kind of a loner, you're basically amazing at tracking and hunting, I wanna know what the hell you did before everything fucked up.”

Daryl scratched his chin. “I helped Merle with stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” Daryl didn't say anything. “Illegal stuff?”

“Some of it was.” Daryl didn't want Glenn to know too much about it. He wasn't proud of the things he'd let Merle rope him into. “I just kinda did whatever Merle wanted me to do.” 

“That's fucked up.” Glenn's squirrel bobbed a bit too low into the flames and he had to lift it back up to a proper position.

“You wouldn't understand. Family's important where I come from.”

“Uh, it is where I come from too. I mean it's fucked up he forced you into doing illegal stuff. Family isn't supposed to force you to do that kind of thing.”

“Like you never did nothing you didn't want to do on account of your family.” Daryl snorted, but the words were cutting a little too deep. 

Glenn looked at him. “You've got a point there.” He'd told him a while back about how he'd come to Atlanta for school, because his parents thought that the right course of action for him would be for him to go into psychology. He'd tried. And failed. He'd barely lasted a year and a half before he'd dropped out. His folks hadn't spoken to him much since then. 

“Squirrel should be ready.” Daryl held the meat in front of his face and blew on it to cool it off. Slowly and methodically, he began picking at the meat and eating. Glenn watched him eat around the small bones and followed his lead. It wasn't bad, despite the lack of seasoning. 

“Daryl, I know I've said this before, but you are next level awesome at hunting. Thanks.”

The older man couldn't tell if it was the compliment or the fire, but he felt his cheeks grow warm. “No problem.”

The rain still hadn't stopped by the time they were done eating. Daryl reclined with his back against the back wall of the shack, while Glenn tossed out the squirrel bones one by one, seeing how far he could get each one to go. Watching him made him feel calm, like things weren't so bad if Glenn could still find joy in things like peaches and small games. 

Glenn could feel Daryl's gaze on him, but he didn't mind at all. It wasn't the kind of staring that came from hate or disgust, it felt like curiosity, and fascination. He flung the last bone out, and scooted back until he was sitting next to Daryl with his back against the wall. They were so close they were almost touching. Daryl began chewing on his fingernails, the proximity both thrilling and unnerving to him.

“Some rain.”

Daryl nodded. How the hell did other people do it? How could they manage things like small talk and all that shit? It felt so goddamn impossible to him. He racked his brain for something he could say. Luckily, Glenn spoke first.

“So, before this, did you have a girlfriend, or a wife?”

Daryl coughed. This was not a comfortable subject for him at all.

“Nah. I was never good at relationships. Longest I was ever seeing anyone was two weeks. She ended up hooking up with Merle at the end.”

“Whoa.” Glenn's eyes went wide. Daryl's family life was even more screwed up than he thought.

“It wasn't no big deal. Merle's always been better with women than me.” A memory from long ago popped back to the front of his mind. “By the time I was 18 I hadn't dated or been with a girl, so he took me to see a whore. I was so goddamn nervous I could barely get it up.” He couldn't help laughing a little, time had provided the necessary buffer to make the memory funny instead of embarrassing. “She was real nice though, older woman, must've been in her forties or somethin'. The kind that'd seen it all and didn't give a damn.”

“That's crazy. Wow. Like, wow.” Glenn wasn't sure if he should be horrified or amused.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Before this did you have a girlfriend?”

Glenn crossed his legs and picked at the hem of his shirt. “Not exactly. It's been a couple of years since I last was in a relationship. It was a shitty one too. The person I was with thought I wasn't manly enough. And they were always down on me for delivering pizza, and not having enough motivation to go back to school.”

“That fuckin' sucks.” Sure, the kid wasn't the manliest thing Daryl had ever seen, but he was perfect the way he was as far as he was concerned. He hoped that the bitch who said that shit to him was one of the first that had gotten infected. “What was her name?”

“Alan.”

Of all the coming out moments that Glenn had experienced, this one was probably the most subtle ones. It was also one of the stupidest ones, and he wished he'd kept his mouth shut, or come up with some fake name to give. But there he was, in the middle of nowhere, with a guy who he still didn't know if he could trust not to freak out or be a homophobic asshole towards him. 

“Alan huh? Well I hope that motherfucker got his ass eaten by walkers. He sounds like he was a prick.” Daryl snapped the stick he'd used to roast his squirrel and tossed it in the fire. 

Glenn just about fell over. That was the best response anyone had ever had to him coming out. 

“Yeah, he was an asshole. I haven't had the best judgment when it comes to guys I've dated.” He scratched his head and laughed nervously. “You know, I was kinda terrified that you were gonna get weird on me 'cause I'm, you know.”

Daryl shrugged. “It's no big deal to me. I'm not like Merle.”

“I figured as much. It's funny, if I were to put you and Merle side by side, I would never think you two were-I mean, are related. You're way nicer.”

The older man's heart skipped a beat. Any compliment from Glenn was enough to make him happy for days on end, but that one was the best. “I'm tryin'.” He said quietly. “When did you figure out you was, uh, what you is?”

“Well, I always kinda knew I guess. I've been with girls a couple of times, and it was ok. I just like guys better.” Glenn picked up his cap and dusted the dirt off of it. “I mean, sexuality's pretty complicated, it's not like it's black and white.”

“Oh.” Daryl grabbed one of the peaches Glenn had yanked from the tree and started to peel it. He had to do something to keep his hands occupied. Juice spilled out onto his fingers, and he sucked it up. “I, uh, I always wondered what the appeal was myself. I can't imagine it's much different that being with a woman.”

Glenn glanced at him. Daryl could look just like a nervous kid sometimes. It was sweet. “It is and it isn't. I think being with a man is nicer, but I'm biased.” He inched closer to Daryl so that their arms were touching. Again, risky, but he wanted to do it. He just hoped he wasn't reading the other man wrong, and that he hadn't imagined all the times he'd caught Daryl gazing at him with what looked like longing in his eyes. 

Daryl didn't move away. He took a bite out of the peach, his eyes darting around nervously, afraid to look at Glenn and reveal too much. 

“Um, listen, I never properly apologized for how Merle treated you. Not just threatening you, but callin' you chinaman and all that shit. And for me callin' you that. It wasn't right.” Daryl took another nervous bite out of the peach.

The younger man nudged him with his elbow. “Well, well, I wouldn't have guessed you had it in you to apologize. Thank you, I accept your apology, just don't do that shit anymore.” Daryl nodded, relieved that Glenn accepted his apology.

“Yer welcome. I had to apologize to T-Dog earlier and he didn't take it as well as you.”

Glenn sighed. “Daryl, I'm gonna tell you something right now and I want you to listen. When you do fucked up shit, especially racist shit, towards people, they aren't obligated to accept your apology. It's self-preservation, man. I can't tell you how many times people have apologized to me for saying fucked up things about my being Asian or gay, and then turned around and did the same goddamn thing over and over again.”

“Then why did you accept my apology?” Daryl bit the last bit of peach flesh off of the pit and threw the pit out towards the peach trees.

“I dunno, maybe I have a soft spot for tough guys who feed me squirrel.” Glenn smiled at him, amused by how bashful Daryl got when he complimented him. For the first time in a long time, he felt safe. Sure there were probably walkers all around, but at this moment, with this complicated, slightly fucked up person with strong arms and nervous blue eyes, he felt like nothing bad would happen. And that was enough to make him want to kiss him. Although, truth be told, Glenn had been wanting to kiss him for a long time.

“Hey Daryl?” The older man looked at him. “If you're ok with it, I'd really like to kiss you right now.” 

Those words made Daryl swallow a bit of peach wrong and he started to choke and cough. Glenn clapped his back and offered him the canteen. Daryl gulped down some water. “Jeez, I'm sorry, are you ok?”

“I'm fine!” Daryl squeaked out, his voice constricted from the coughing.

“I'm sorry, it was stupid.” Glenn felt like shit, and like he'd misread Daryl completely. He moved away from the other man.

“No, it's not stupid, uh, it sounds good. I mean I'd like that. I'd like to...” Daryl took a deep breath. “I'd like to kiss you too.” Again, he wished he was better with words. He'd hoped that on the remote chance that this would happen, he'd be able to say some meaningful shit to Glenn, some grand declaration of feelings, something fucking romantic, instead of just 'sounds good.'

“Really?” 

Daryl nodded. “Yeah, I do.” He sat still, not sure if Glenn wanted him to make the first move, or if Glenn was going to since he was the one who offered. Glenn leaned in and kissed him, softly, on the lips. Daryl's mouth tasted like the peach he'd been eating, and his stubble felt slightly abrasive, but nice. Glenn brought his hand up and lightly stroked the underside of his chin. Daryl melted into the kiss, feeling like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day. Glenn's mouth was so hot on his, it was making him lightheaded. Lack of experience meant he wasn't sure what was appropriate now, how hard he should kiss back, or if he should reach out and touch Glenn. So he sat there, letting the younger man take the lead. When Glenn pulled away, smiling at him, Daryl knew two things. One, kissing Glenn was even better than he could have ever imagined. Two, he didn't want to kiss anyone else for the foreseeable future, and he hoped Glenn felt the same. 

“So, you see the appeal now?” Glenn asked, placing his hand over Daryl's.

Daryl couldn't help staring at his lips. They were so fucking pretty. “I do. Can we do it again?”

“Ok.” Glenn bit his bottom lip, grinning. This time, Daryl placed his hand on the back of his head, and pulled him towards him. The kisses they exchanged were slow and cautious, the both of them figuring out how the other liked to be kissed. Daryl's lips were slightly chapped and rough, but they felt good. Glenn put his arms around his shoulders, drawing him closer. He ran his hands through the older man's dark blond hair, then stroking the nape of his neck. 

As they kissed, it quit raining. The sun peeked through the clouds, and made the wet vegetation shine brightly. The peaches on the trees took on a bejeweled aspect, droplets of water clinging to their fuzzy skins. All of nature was shining and green, and it was good. It was alive. 

Daryl pulled away first, not for wanting to stop, but rather for wanting to catch his breath. He could barely breathe knowing that Glenn not only wanted to kiss him, but wanted to do it over and over again. People said that seeing a fantasy realized was always disappointing, but as far as Daryl could tell, this was the furthest thing from it. Those people probably had shitty fantasies anyway. He tentatively cupped Glenn's smooth cheek, letting his thumb trace over his high cheekbone. It was funny, he hadn't shaved in forever, and he was pretty sure Glenn hadn't either, but he had no stubble to speak of. 

“Yer skin's so damn smooth.” It sounded way creepier when he said it out loud, but Glenn just kept smiling at him, his bright brown eyes filled with what Daryl hoped was joy. 

“I've never been very hairy. Not like you, you're a regular mountain man.” He stroked Daryl's face with the tips of his fingers. “It looks good on you though.” 

“Uh, thanks.” Glenn leaned in and kissed him again, this time it was a quick peck on the cheek. 

“It stopped raining. We should probably head back.”

“Yeah.” Daryl stood a little too quickly and bonked his head on the low ceiling of the shack. 

“You ok?” Glenn threw dirt on the fire, putting it out, and gathered his things. 

“Yeah, I'm ok. I'm real ok.” Daryl held out a hand to Glenn, to help him to his feet. When the younger man stood, he did something that as far as he was concerned, was as bold as Glenn asking for a kiss. He drew him into his arms and hugged him tightly, his arms wrapped around his back. Glenn buried his face in the older man's slightly dirty neck, his cheeks starting to hurt from the smiling. He might die tomorrow, they might all die in fact, but this moment made it so he didn't feel so afraid. Glenn couldn't tell yet what all of this might mean, but the moment was too sweet for him to worry about it yet. 

“We didn't get any meat for the camp.” Glenn murmured against Daryl's neck.

“They can deal. I ain't goddamn huntin' machine.” Daryl sighed. “Glenn...”

The other man stepped back, holding the older man's hand. “What?”

“I-I'm glad you came with me today. Look, I'm not expecting anythin' from you. I've been a bastard to you for a while, and I know there ain't no reason you should trust me or nothin', and I don't want you to think I'm trying to pull somethin' here...”

“Daryl, it's ok. This is ok, well, it's more than ok, it's good. It's fucking great actually.” He adjusted his baseball cap, trying to think of the right words, ones that wouldn't frighten Daryl away. “I like you. A lot. I've liked you for a while, even though you can be an asshole.”

“You ain't lyin' there.” Daryl glanced down at his boots.

“When Merle told me to stay away from you, I almost lost my mind. I wanna be around you Daryl. I dunno how you feel about it.” Glenn bounced the machete against his leg. Talking to Daryl like this made him feel like he was 15 again, all awkwardness and no charm.

The older man shifted his weight from foot to foot. His heart didn't feel so scabby anymore, but it was stinging. Any wound hurts when bloods starts to flow through it again. “Kid, I want you 'round me. I don't want nothin' else.” He squeezed the younger man's hand. “Let's go back to camp.”

Not letting go of each other, they hiked out of the orchard and back through the forest. They didn't talk much, and even though both their hands were sweaty from the heat and from nerves, they didn't let go. Not until they reached the edge of the camp. Daryl let go of Glenn's hand, and gave him an apologetic look. Glenn understood, and patted his shoulder.

“How mad do you think they're gonna be when they see that we've been out for so long and didn't bring back anything?”

Daryl shrugged. They walked into camp, and were greeted by Andrea. 

“Hey you two, while you were out being macho outdoorsmen, me and Amy took care of dinner.”

“What d'you mean?” Glenn asked.

“We went fishing and caught a ton of fish! We're gonna have a fish fry tonight.” Glenn high fived her, and she continued. “Run into any trouble out there?”

“Nothin' we couldn't handle. The kid's got a way with that blade.” Daryl nudged Glenn with his elbow. In the distance, he spied Sophia playing with Carl and Eliza by the cars. “I gotta go take care of somethin'.”

“Seeya later.” Glenn called out, staring at the older man's form as he trotted away. He wondered if after dinner, Daryl would be willing to come by his tent. Just the thought of it made his heart bounce around like crazy. 

“So, you and Daryl, out in the woods. Alone.” Andrea wiggled her eyebrows. 

“Don't start with me.” Glenn brandished his machete. “Or else.”

“Oh no, I'm so scared, ooooh!” Andrea grabbed the cap off of his head and held it aloft. “C'mon little man, let's go.”

*******

When Daryl approached, the children quieted down. They looked upon him with a mixture of awe and fear. They knew he brought back meat for everyone, and that he was tough and didn't talk much. They knew his brother had been the scariest man they'd ever seen, but he wasn't around anymore. 

“I need to talk to Miss Sophia real quick, can y'all high-tail it somewhere?”

The term of respect made Sophia's eyes go wide. She'd never heard an adult refer to her with that kind of respect. Eliza and Carl figured they'd better obey the hunter, and went off, leaving the two of them alone to talk. Daryl knelt down so he was eye-level with her.

“I didn't thank you for that drawing you made. It's real good. Yer a damn good artist.” He reached into the sack he'd taken to carry material for the snares, and took out a peach, a souvenir from the orchard. “I'm sorry I was so mean to you. You didn't do nothin' to deserve that.” He placed the fruit in her hand. She looked at it with amazement. It had been too long since she'd had a bite of fresh fruit. “We square?”

Sophia nodded, and threw her arms around his shoulders. “Thank you Mr. Daryl.” 

“Yer welcome kiddo. Now eat it before the others see and get sore I didn't bring nothin' back for 'em.” He stood up and ruffled her short blonde hair. She smiled and sank her teeth into the peach, eating it fast. Of all the things he'd done today, this was by far the easiest. 

*******

Going back to his tent, Daryl wondered if Glenn would be willing to have dinner not with the rest of the group, but down by the quarry with him. He'd never been on a proper date before, but Glenn was the kind of person that made him want to go through the formalities. It wasn't like he could ask him to go to dinner and a movie, or bring him roses, but he'd figure something out. Something like a real courtship, even though they'd already kissed. The memory of his lips and of those fingers of his made him grin like a fool. It made him feel like everything was going to be ok, despite everything. If he could be with Glenn, he was going to be ok.


End file.
